


And all I've learned has overturned

by killjoyfart



Series: Super Trouper [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, Jealous Louis, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Possessive Louis, References to ABBA, Sad Louis, Self-Hatred, Songfic, haha!, it is kind of hopeful i swear its not all shitty, these tags are gross what have i written im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:37:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6241309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killjoyfart/pseuds/killjoyfart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Smoking used to be his only vice, Louis thinks to himself as he drops the fag to the ground. Smoking, and maybe talking too much when he gets wired up, never being able to just let things go (honestly – why the fuck would “letting it go” help in any way), but otherwise he's always thought of himself as a pretty decent guy. Easy-going, in control and capable. </i> </p><p>Louis thinks a lot (too much probably). ABBA songfic - based on Lay all your love on me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And all I've learned has overturned

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo this is the first ficlet in what's meant to be a collection of ABBA songfics! I swear I didn't mean for this to turn out as angsty as it did - the song just carries these kinda dark dysfunctional undertones I guess? Enjoy ~

 

Louis takes a first drag off the cigarette and feels the familiar smokey air make its way down his throat and settle in his chest. His fingers are cold – he should have brought a pair of gloves like his mum had told him – and he catches himself thinking he could use somebody elses hands to keep him warm. Because why wouldn't he be thinking of Harry right now, hell, he's been the only thing on his mind for he doesn't even know how long. Makes him lose track of time, that boy. Time, and everything else.

 

Smoking used to be his only vice, Louis thinks to himself as he drops the fag to the ground. Smoking, and maybe talking too much when he gets wired up, never being able to just let things go (honestly – why the fuck would “letting it go” help in any way), but otherwise he's always thought of himself as a pretty decent guy. Easy-going, in control and capable.

 

Everything is just so _new,_ is the thing; Harry makes it all new. Louis hates feeling like a novice in his own body, relearning everything he thought he knew about himself. Harry touching other boys and Louis feeling frustration growing hot and heavy in his stomach is _new_ , Louis wanting to grab and shelter every part of Harry's body that the interviewers keep touching is _new_.

 

He thought he knew being in love, but this is nothing like wanting to hug a person forever or whatever he used to think it was like. This is being possessive, and it isn't _nice._ Louis catches himself actually being jealous, and it's disgusting. At times, he's actually wished Harry wouldn't ever share his emotions, waste them on anybody else, and honestly. What kind of insane fucking mind does it take to think like that. Louis shrugs and lights another one out of habit.

 

If he could just once and for all make sure that Harry didn't actually care, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. But Harry makes it so hard, from way back at the X Factor, from the very first day of awkward small talk, from the first not-at-all-hesitant hug. Louis shivers and rubs his hands together, pretending the chills down his spine are caused only by the October air and have nothing to do with the thought of the first time Harry's lips met his own.

 

Anyone who weren't such a proud fucking asshole would've confronted Harry by now, demanding to _know_. It's been so long and Louis has yet to actually talk to Harry about it how easy it was to fall, how Louis, the grown-up man, surrendered to green eyes, soft hands and a ridiculous laugh. Louis thinks that maybe, if he knew there wasn't an actual chance, he'd be able to – ironically enough – let it go.

 

The problem is Harry. Harry making the possibility of something more so easy to believe in, getting his hopes up and making Louis _want it_. Louis is shaking in his thin sweater now, and he wants to. He wants Harry to lay all his love on him, never on somebody else, and wow, isn't that fucked up.

 

Louis takes a last warm drag. He should get back inside. Being in love and miserable actually is slightly less awful in the company of other people, however still shitty.

 

The feeling of being a beginner, a novice, doesn't go away as he opens the door and makes out Harry's voice (“There you are! Was just about to go looking for you”) soaring above the buzz of others, but his quick embrace makes it a little easier.

 

He lets himself dwell in the smell of Harry's hair half a second or so too long, and that's enough for his fucked up brain to pipe up and make him think about how he might just be able to skip the pride and _tell him_. Not right now, and not definitely, but possibly. Another time, when he smells less like smoke and self-hate. Probably.

 

 


End file.
